


Ást og Jakkar

by bubble_boy



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Abuse, First Kiss, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 07:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20596805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubble_boy/pseuds/bubble_boy
Summary: Jay is a selkie. Tim is oblivious. Alex is tired.





	1. Chapter 1

Tim sighed, worn out sneakers splashing through another puddle and soaking through when he walked out of it. Fuck the rain, he thought bitterly. Fuck it all to hell. 

He dropped himself onto the bus stop bench, the splintering plastic groaning under his weight. He winced at the sound, looking down at his stomach. Last time he needed to take the bus home, the seat hadn't protested nearly as much. Then again, he'd been stress eating a lot more. Junk food calmed his nerves, reminded him of home. It was a bad coping mechanism, but it was one of the few he had.

He glanced around, eyes catching on the man sitting at the other end of the roofed bench. Lanky, drooping eyes, a gigantic fur coat that looked like it belonged in a dumpster, rather than on someone's body. Much less one that was huddled into it for whatever asylum it could provide.

Tim shook his head, pushing his hand into his pocket and cursing when it came up empty. He must have left his cigarettes in his desk drawer again. He groaned, leaning back as a rumbling picked up from the street. Oh, thank god, the bus was here.

He looked down the road, a small frown tugging at his mouth as he stood. He gazed back at the man, frown growing as he only saw the ratty edges of the jacket, laying in a puddle of dirty rainwater. 

He stepped towards it as the bus pulled up, pulling it from its rest before looking around for its owner. It dripped water on his shoe as he spotted the man, walking through the rain like it was nothing to him.

"Hey!" he called, hand cupping around his mouth as he shouted to the man. He didn't turn around, though; Tim glanced at the bus as the doors swung open, gritting his teeth before starting to run toward the strange man. 

He was soon panting roughly, arms pumping as though it would make him go faster. He was seriously out of shape, he thought, nearly slipping as he made his way to the figure walking away. Tim soon caught up to him, tapping him on the shoulder and groaning in relief as he finally stopped.

"Hey… You left this," he said, chest heaving as he held up the disgusting looking jacket. The man smiled, reaching for it before stopping and pulling his hand back. 

"Oh- thank you," he said, smiling wider as Tim thrust it forward. "Why don't you take it?" Tim stared at him, growing more confused as he spoke. Why would he take a stranger's muddy old coat?

"No, I'm serious," the man replied, seeming to know what Tim was thinking. Though, he was probably pulling a face. "It's only going to rain harder, and I don't mind it. Besides, you're walking," he said, pointing behind Tim.

Tim turned, heart dropping as the bus drove past them. "Wait- stop! Please!" he cried, waving at the bus driver and chasing the bus for a moment. It soon became apparent that the bus wasn't stopping, though, and Tim groaned. Of course, with his luck, he'd be walking through this kind of weather.

The man only giggled, a soft, lilting sound despite his intentions. He was laughing at Tim, and it was all he could do to not throw this guy's nasty jacket into the road and stomp home.

"I'm sorry, I just-" He laughed again, covering his mouth with a hand as something glinted on his teeth. "You look so upset. It's just some water!" Tim sneered at the man, who only giggled harder. 

"You can't be serious. Just some water?" he replied, glaring as the man nodded. "You're insane, and I'm going home." He held out the coat with the tips of his fingers, the man stopped laughing immediately.

"You'll need it. It's waterproof," he said, gently pushing it into Tim's chest. "My address is inside, in the reverse breast pocket." Tim stared at him for a moment before peeling the jacket open, feeling around for a pocket before his fingers slipped inside the smooth lining. 

He pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper, Sharpie writing on the front and bleeding through to the back. A phone number and address were written there, little hearts surrounding the scrawl. Tim looked up, frowning as the man was nowhere to be seen. 

"Hey- where'd you go?" he asked loudly, peering around before sighing and looking at the coat. Tucking the note back in its pocket, he slid it onto his shoulders and started the long walk back home.

The jacket didn't smell so bad, he reflected as he stumbled onto his porch. Like seawater and something softer, almost sweet. Maybe he was just hungry, though.

He pushed the door open with one hand, grabbing the jacket with the other. He was about to toss it on the chair, but… He looked at it again, and his jaw dropped.

The coat was pristine, fluffy and stiff like the day it was made. No caked in mud, no wet streaks dripping onto his carpet, and certainly no smell. (No, he didn't check for a smell specifically, he was just… making sure nothing else had changed. It had.) Tim frowned, checking it over once, twice, three times before he grabbed the paper from its pocket and ran for the phone.

He dialed the number, waiting for three rings before someone picked up. "Hello?" the voice said, Tim gritting his teeth as he recognized the voice.

"Hey, what's the big idea, huh?" he said, holding up the jacket and shaking it in his fist. "You trying to play some fuckin'... mind games on me?" The phone went silent for a moment, stretching into a few moments as Tim stood there.

"...No? Is there something wrong?" the man asked innocently, Tim gripping the coat tighter in his fist. "Yes, there's something wrong! Your jacket is self cleaning!" he said, eyes widening as he realized what he said. He must sound like a lunatic-

The man chuckled. "Well, yeah. That's what it does," he said, and Tim hated how serene he sounded. "Have you never gotten a coat before? From one of us, I mean."

"What the hell does 'one of us' mean?! I'm not getting into a fucking cult!" Tim cried, pinching the bridge of his nose angrily. Shushing sounds came from the receiver, Tim growling before he felt his muscles, tense from work, start to relax of their own volition. "What the…"

"It's okay," the voice soothed, and Tim felt warm, unseasonably so. He wrapped an arm around his torso, closing his eyes as the man continued to whisper nothing and everything into his ear. His heart pounded in his chest, soon drowning out what the man was saying. What was happening to him?

"-But you're going to be fine," the man's voice broke in, Tim jolting back from the rose colored fever dream that was flickering past his closed eyes. "Just take the jacket, wear it in for me, okay?"

Tim nodded for a moment before clearing his throat, sticky with something he couldn't define, something sweet. "Uh- yeah, yeah," he found himself saying, pulling the jacket to his chest. "How long should I keep it for?"

The man paused, and the warm feeling that surrounded Tim slid from his shoulders as he spoke next. "A few months, at least. I wanna get to know you," he said, and Tim's eyes flew open in shock.

"I'm sorry? You think I'm gonna carry around a stranger's coat around for months?" he snapped, the shushing starting up even as he spoke. Then there was that feeling, warm and floating through space and it had him almost lunging forward for the source before he realized he was still in his kitchen. What the hell was happening to him?

"It'll be okay, ástin mín," the man murmured, voice soft as he spoke. The words were foreign, but they slipped off his tongue so easily; Tim could forget everything in that voice. "Ég elska þig."

Tim shivered at that, hand covering his face as he shook his head. "What are you even saying?" he mumbled, soft and almost sweet to a stranger. He wasn't ever sweet to strangers, even when he was drunk.

"I'm reassuring you. Could you please wear my jacket in for me?" the man asked, and Tim nodded again, suddenly eager to please. "Thank you! I'll call tomorrow," he said, and the phone went silent as the stranger hung up.

Tim suddenly went cold, ice water dumped over his warmth and falling into his stomach. What was that? He shook his head, looking at the jacket before slowly setting the phone down and slipping the jacket on. 

It fit like a glove, though a stiff one, with the fur trim soft against his wrists and collar. The inside was sleek, and he smiled at the thought of the smaller man huddling under the hood. It would keep him warm, until he could talk to him again. 

Tim looked up, shaking his head slightly. Why was that the first thing he thought of? He huffed, folding his arms and nodding determinedly to himself. He'd just go over there and give it back. No harm done, right?

...But he wanted Tim to take it. A wave of feelings crashed over him, nearly drowning in how intense they were. His hands dropped to his sides as he bit his lip, worrying it between his teeth. He looked so happy when he gave it to him, and when he laughed at him, and that smile… did something to him.

Was he cursed? That must be it. He already had enough shit in his life to deal with, and someone up there decided to drop one more thing on his lap. He sighed, hand coming up to press against his forehead as he made his way into the living room. He needed a nap, and couch naps were best, in his opinion, when you had something absolutely shitty to deal with.

He collapsed onto the couch, the springs squeaking loudly in protest, and he dimly wondered where he'd heard that before as his eyes slipped closed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explanation abound. Warning goes up from here.

Tim was researching. Fingers tapped at his keyboard as he looked through, frown deepening. Nothing relevant came up for 'coat magic', or 'magic coat turns clean', or even 'magic man makes me feel okay for the first time in forever'. (The last one was for his own sake more than anything else- he still couldn't understand how he could feel so nice after one phone call.)

He groaned, pulling his cell phone out and looking through his messages. Boss wanted him to come in Sunday (not happening), Brian was wondering if he wanted to go out for a drink (not happening either, he hated getting drunk with Brian), and… a voicemail.

He opened it up, the man's voice immediately soothing over his nerves like a blanket covering a newborn. "Hey, so, just following up from yesterday-" and Tim had to chuckle. Like this was some work call that meant he missed an email chain. "-so, do you wanna go somewhere? Together. Like- like a couple." Tim paused the recording, staring at his phone. Was this guy asking him on a date? Over voicemail, of all things? 

He hit play, and the man sighed. "That sounded dumb, I'm sorry. Uh- my name's Jay, by the way. I know you're Tim, cause you had a name tag on. Unless that wasn't yours? I dunno." He huffed before continuing. "Anyway, Tim, I'm really excited to see you! Vertu öruggur, elskan mín."

Tim smiles at the words, moving to plug the words into Google. Fingers typing away at his keyboard, he searched, and… He blushed faintly, heat rising to his ears and cheeks. My love…? He couldn't have said that- far too personal. He clicked around for a few minutes, trying to see if it was an Icelandic courtesy or something, but nothing new popped up. 

My love. The words rang through his head as he covered his mouth with a hand. He couldn't have meant it that way… They were strangers. Nothing more… Nothing less. Which was good. At least he knew there was one person that didn't hate him. That loved him, his mind whispered, Tim quickly shaking his head.

He couldn't imagine anyone loving him. Especially not someone as interesting as Jay. With his hands that looked perfect for holding, and his laughter that was almost infectious, and his smile… Tim looked up at the ceiling and groaned. He wanted to see him again. Just to make sure he was right, of course.

He stood quickly, chair nearly knocked over as he grabbed his keys and pulled out the address from his pocket. It wasn't too far, he thought, nodding to himself as he grabbed his shoes. Pulling on the coat, he noticed that it felt softer, a little more bendable in the sleeves than yesterday.

He sighed, hugging himself softly as he moved to the door. He swung it open, arm still wrapped around his torso as he locked the door behind him. He was nervous, he realized, hand smoothing down the jacket's fluffy exterior as he looked up at the sky. 

Clear skies, and a slight damp chill in the air met him, Tim frowning as he stepped off his porch. Glancing at the paper one more time, he started off toward the house that housed his stranger.

Soon he was there, realizing far too late that it was an apartment complex that held the man, instead of a house. Looking at the paper, he flipped it over and searched for an apartment number, or even a floor number. No such luck.

He sighed, stepping in and starting his search. Of course it wouldn't be easy, he thought, rapping on doors and asking for a Jay, wears a big coat like the one he was wearing? Soon he found out he lives on the third floor, and would you ask him to keep his voice down when it was nighttime, he's scaring the kids.

Tim nodded, waving as the door closed before making his way to the elevator. As the doors slid open to the third floor, he spotted a man standing by the door at the end of the hall. The man looked up, glasses glinting in the fluorescent lights before disappearing through the door. 

Tim frowned, hand raised to wave to the man before he left abruptly. "Rude," he muttered, moving to knock on the door beside the elevator.

Soon he found out that Jay lived in the same place as the glasses wearing man, and that they were really loud at night, though sometimes during the day. Tim frowned at that, but thanked their neighbor and waved goodbye as he left for the apartment down the hall.

He stepped in front of the door, heart stammering in his chest as he moved to knock on the door. Why was he getting so nervous? Shaking his head, he knocked loudly, mostly to knock him out of his own head and partially to give Jay and whoever the other was enough time to get to the door.

He didn't even realize that he was still knocking until his fist connected with air, the door swinging open to reveal the same tall man as before. His glasses shone as he looked down to Tim, frowning as though he was inspecting him.

Tim suddenly found his mouth dry, tongue thick in his throat and hand stuck in the air. The man scoffed, holding out his hand. "Of course, Jay left his jacket somewhere, didn't he? I'll give it back to him," he said, gesturing to the coat slung across Tim's shoulders, and suddenly Tim found his voice.

"No, he gave it to me. To break in for him," Tim replied, taking a half step back and pulling his hand to his side. The man sneered at that, Tim struck with the sense that he should run.

"It's okay, I know how careless he is," he said, voice calm but constricted as he reached for the jacket. Tim shook his head, stepping back.

"Can I talk to Jay?" he asked, leaning to his left to look inside, and the man nearly closed the door. "I just need to talk to him- about the jacket."

The man glared at him, face steadily turning a bright shade of red. "He's busy," he gritted out, hand on the doorknob tightening. "Looking over his work. Come back later." Suddenly, Jay appeared at the man's elbow, looking delighted to see Tim.

"Hey! Tim! C'mon in," he said, pushing beside the man (his roommate? his lover? both?) and guiding Tim under his arm, grip on the doorjamb tightening as Tim stepped into their space. 

"I'm going out. Don't wait for me," the man said, grabbing a set of keys from a hook on the wall and slamming the door behind him. Jay winced, almost imperceptible, and chuckled nervously.

"Sorry, Alex can be kinda loud," he apologised, hand coming up to rub at his neck before adjusting the cap on his head. "He's really sweet once you get to know him, though."

Tim raised an eyebrow, and Jay wilted under his gaze. "Well… When he wants to be. ...Here, you wanna sit in the living room or my room?" he said, gesturing for Tim to follow as he walked toward the kitchen. 

Tim quickly followed, tugging on his sleeve as he passed various piles of crap. Video tapes, old novels, beer cans… The living room and entryway looked like it belonged to a very well-to-do pig.

"Sorry about the mess," Jay replied, laughing that same nervous giggle again. "Alex sleeps in the living room, and he's not the greatest at cleaning up…"

Tim shook his head. "It's fine. My room's worse," he lied, shrugging as Jay pulled two glasses from a high cabinet. "I get not being able to clean up. But why did he get so angry when I asked to talk to you?"

Jay tensed at that, glancing behind him before opening the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of water. "Oh- he's just a little protective," he tittered, face turning pink as he poured out some water. Grabbing an ice tray from the freezer, he pried out three baby pink ice cubes and dropped them into one of the cups before sliding the other to Tim.

Tim raised an eyebrow at the sight of the cubes, a question on the tip of his tongue before he bites it and takes the glass in his hands. It's cold, burning his hands as he takes a sip, and the freezing pain settles under his ribs like something's wrong. And something was wrong, judging by the look on Jay's face as he looked to the clock on the wall. 

"So, uh… Why'd you come over?" Jay asked, frown twisting into something mimicking a smile as he glanced at Tim. "I mean, I'm glad you're here, Tim."

His heart stammered as Jay said his name, organs nearly pouring out of him from the sound of his voice melting them. "U-uh, I wanted- I wanted to ask you a few things. You know, standard stuff. Like why me, and how am I supposed to do this, and why Icelandic of all things? It's like, the hardest language to learn."

Jay blanched at the mention of Icelandic, nearly dropping his cup before setting it on the counter with shaky hands. "Uh- you knew what I was saying?" he asked quietly. "I'm sorry-"

Tim cut him off with a shake of his head. "If you're gonna call a stranger pet names, do it so they understand what you're saying." Jay frowned, looking down.

"I'm sorry, I just… I get excited," he said, spreading his hands helplessly. "I think this is gonna be it, and I slip- I'm sorry." Tim frowned at that, raising an eyebrow.

"It? What is 'it'?" he asked, folding his arms and staring at Jay. Jay seemed to clam up, jaw tightening and fists clenching around nothing. "Jay, talk to me."

Jay looked at him, and Tim's heart melted because fuck, that look in his eyes was enough to hurt him. "I… Here, why don't we sit down," he said, taking Tim's hand (fuck, if that didn't make his heart jump) and guiding him to the couch.

They sat beside each other for a moment, Tim looking at Jay and Jay looking anywhere but Tim, before Tim cleared his throat. "You wanna talk to me, or should I leave?"

"...Yeah, I'll tell you," Jay relented, and Tim smiled slimly. "So… Do you know what selkies are?" he asked, Tim squinting slightly. "Like, the myth. Selkies."

Tim shook his head, and Jay hummed. "Yeah, no one really does anymore. Um… they're kind of like, seal humans? They can change between seal form and human form when they wear a special coat, made from their skin. But we- er, they, they don't really do that anymore." Tim narrowed his eyes at Jay, shaking his head slightly.

"Are you trying to say that you're a seal?" he asked, Jay pursing his lips. "Okay, you're a seal. And I'm the queen of England, and Alex won the Nobel Peace Prize." Jay snorted at that, covering his mouth with a hand.

"No- I'm a selkie. And I gave you my coat," Jay said, smiling still. "It's meant to be a sign of trust, and- and other stuff. But, basically, I'm asking you to break it in for me, so when you give it back, I can get to know you."

Tim frowned. "Like what, you're gonna osmosis info about me from me wearing the jacket? Wait- is this made from your skin?!" he said, jolting back and trying to pull the jacket off quickly. Jay's laughter rang out, loud and true.

"No!! It's not made of my skin- you think I have enough skin to make a jacket out of?" he laughed, spreading his skinny arms and twisting to show his back. "See? Nada."

Tim stopped struggling with the jacket, looking at Jay and nodding slowly. "O-okay. So, you're gonna like, spy on me or something? Through the jacket."

Jay shook his head, still smiling. "Nope. It absorbs the energy you give off," he said, like it was natural. "So just be yourself while it's in the room with you, and I'll know you from that."

Tim stared at him, eyebrow twitching slightly. "You… Really?" he asked. "You expect me to believe any of this? Without proof?" He regretted the words the moment they popped out of his mouth, Jay's smile melting into a teary frown.

"I- I don't know if I have any proof," he said quietly, looking down. "I just wanted to- Mig langaði til að elska einhvern og þú virtist fullkominn og því miður!!" 

Tim frowned, scooting back slightly at Jay's outburst. Though, it wasn't unwarranted, he realized, hesitantly reaching out to pat his shoulder. "I… I don't understand what you just said, but I didn't mean to doubt you. It just sounds like… I dunno. I've never experienced something like this before."

Jay looked up at him with tearstruck cheeks, and Tim barely resisted the urge to wipe them away with his thumb. "Thank you, Tim," he whispered, smiling through the tears rolling down his face. 

Tim nodded, looking away, and he could feel that that was the wrong choice. He can feel Jay looking at him, smile falling as he watched him move slowly to look at him. "Uh… Jay, can I ask you something?"

Jay nodded. "Of course. Anything," he breathed, and Tim had a feeling he meant it. "What do you want to know?"

Tim swallowed before looking him dead in the eye, asking, "Who is Alex to you? I know that's butting into your life, but… I need to know, before we talk more." Tim winced at his wording, frowning. 

Jay nodded, though, spreading his hands like he had the universe in his hands. "We're friends… You probably heard about the noise, huh? I-it's not like we're doing anything, er, anything gross, just… Alex gets drunk sometimes, and sometimes he- he gets loud." Jay finished, though he looked like he had more to say. 

Tim waited a moment before nodding. "Okay, that makes sense. Are you okay?" Jay looked surprised at the question, eyes widening slightly as he wiped at his face. "I'm just making sure, cause I know what's it like to have a tall drunk in your house," he laughed bitterly.

Jay nodded. "Yeah, he… he just stays in the living room," he said, eyes sliding to the floor. "And drinks, and reads, or watches movies. He just enjoys them a lot."

"Alright, just checking in." They sat there for a moment, neither of them looking at the other, before Jay spoke.

"Do you… do you wanna give the jacket back?" he asked, quieter than before. "I won't mind if you do. Really…" Tim looked at him, pity and something else mixing in his chest.

"No, I think I'll hold onto it." Jay looked at him in surprise, eyes wide and hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "I get cold easily, you know? And… I think I wanna give this thing a try."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for abuse. This is a short one. Next chapter is longer.

Tim yawned, stretching as he sat up in bed. He had gone about his days the past few weeks as normal, but something felt dislodged in his chest, a weight lifted. A bounce in his step, a swing of his arms, little motions that meant nothing to everyone but him.

He smiled at the thought, standing and cracking his back before reaching for the jacket. Slipping it on, he sighed softly as the inside of the coat pressed against his torso. 

The jacket was getting softer every day, wearing into creases and fluffy fur that Tim had taken to brushing with a hair brush he bought on his way home from work one night. His work was paying off, though, the fur fluffing up magnificently and shining more than Tim's own hair did.

He moved to the kitchen, feet padding against the tile floor as he made his way to the coffee maker. He started humming softly, an aimless tune that turned into an old song he had written in college.

"Hey, hey, boy, how 'bout you come a little closer," he sang, pressing the on button on the coffee maker before stepping back. "I can't wait to make your heart smolder~" And with that, he was shaking his hips along to the song, dancing across the floor like he was a boy band frontliner.

He grinned, grateful that he lived alone as he shifted his shoulders back and started to sing his heart out. Suddenly, the coffee maker beeped, and he jolted back before pressing a hand to his forehead. "Jesus…" he murmured, grabbing his pill box from the counter before starting to make himself a cup.

Alex slammed his fist down on the table, silverware clattering as they jumped from the tablecloth Jay had laid out. "What the hell do you mean?! Jay, you can't just run off with any guy- you're going to get yourself killed!" 

Jay winced, looking down at his spaghetti. "I- He's not like the other guys, Alex. He's nice," he replied, yelping as a hand gripped his hair and yanked him forward.

"That man is dangerous, you understand?" Alex growled, ignoring Jay's whimpers. "I said, do you understand?" Jay nodded as much as he could, Alex letting him go before snatching his book back up and thumbing through it.

"Can… can I go to my room? I'm not hungry," Jay mumbled, Alex looking up and glaring at him over his glasses. "I'm just gonna lie down for a bit…"

Alex huffed, glancing back at his book. "Whatever. I better not hear you calling Tim, though." He went silent for a moment before his eyes flashed to Jay's, dark blue against the whites of his eyes. 

"You understand that the jacket is mine. I've let you stay here, under my roof, for how long now? And here you are, trying to crawl off to any man that you think can get you away from me." He set his book down before he suddenly stood. "You are MINE!" he yelled, Jay flinching and nodding quickly.

"Yours, yours- I'm sorry, Alex," he whispered, arms coming up to hug his chest as Alex nodded. "I'm gonna go lay down- I can leave the phone in the living room."

"You fucking better," Alex said, sitting down and starting to eat like nothing had happened. Jay stood slowly, arms shaking as he moved to his bedroom. He didn't lay down until Alex had the phone in his hand.

Tim was sitting in his room, staring at the wall. Something was wrong, he felt off. He was cold, like normal… It suddenly sparked in his brain, and he bolted out of bed before running to the living room. 

He spotted the jacket on a chair by the fireplace, and he sighed in relief. He moved to pick it up, sliding it on his person like an old friend's handshake. He felt safe in the jacket; ironic, considering it was from a… they couldn't exactly call each other strangers anymore, could they?

He shook his head, burying his hands in his pockets. Something crinkled in one, and he raised an eyebrow before pulling it out. How had he not noticed that before?

It was a candy wrapper, neatly pulled open like a bag of chips. Swedish Fish. Tim raised an eyebrow, chuckling to himself. Of course he liked Swedish Fish, he thought, shaking his head. Of course it was Jay.

He sat down in the chair, turning the candy wrapper over in his fingers before stuffing it into his pocket. Wrapping his arms around himself, he hesitantly pulled the hood up around himself. 

He instantly felt warmer, and he distantly wondered if this was some kind of selkie magic, to make people feel comfortable. It would explain why Jay's voice held so much power over him… He blushed faintly, propping his head up with a hand. Now he was back to thinking about Jay.

He tried to avoid it, most days- he had work on weekdays, and grocery shopping on Saturdays, but Jay managed to wriggle into his mind no matter what he was doing. Maybe he was magic, after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for serious abuse. Like, I got sick writing it abuse. Warning goes up from here.

Jay peered behind him, cap slightly askew and bruises on his throat. He knew that he was supposed to let Tim take his time with the jacket, but not seeing him was driving him out of his mind. 

He wondered for a moment what Alex would do if he knew he was just leaving like this. Shaking his head, he quickly pushed that thought from his mind and grabbed the spare set of keys from the hook on the wall.

Stepping outside, he smiled, stretching his arms toward the sun before wincing with pain. He slowly lowered his arms, rolling his shoulder in its socket before starting off toward the bus stop.

It was only after he passed the first house that he realized- he had no idea where Tim lived. And no way of asking, either; Alex had smashed the phone against the wall when he found Jay trying to call Tim.

He grimaced at the memory, deciding that he'd just follow Tim's footsteps. He had watched him walk long enough to know he lived east of the apartments, he could ask if people knew where he lived.

A very kind older woman directed him to Tim's house, pushing a basket of baked goods into his arms and telling him to eat something, alright, you look so skinny, dear. Jay nodded, thanking her profusely as he waved goodbye. 

Once he was out of earshot of the doorway, he started choking the bread and muffins down, wiping his mouth on his sleeve between huge bites. Alex had locked the fridge with a padlock, relegating him to dry cereal and whatever he could scrounge from the dishes after Alex was done eating. 

His stomach grumbled at the sudden intake of food, but Jay couldn't care less. The bread tasted so good, homemade and fluffy and springy in your hands. And the muffins… He could eat those muffins forever.

Unfortunately, he ran out before he made it to Tim's porch. Pressing a hand around the inside of the basket to make sure he didn't miss anything, he sighed. What was he doing?

Looking up, he licked a bit of chocolate from his index finger before knocking on the front door. A bit of noise came from inside, and Jay suddenly felt ill as the noise grew closer.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Jay damn near bolted at the sound of it. Tim stood there, smiling brightly (did he always have a beautiful smile?) at the sight of Jay.

"Jay! What're you doing here?" he asked, and Jay pressed a hand to his stomach. His mouth filled with saliva, and warning bells went off in his head.

"Bathroom-" he croaked out, and somehow Tim understood, pointing to a door inside even as Jay ran past him and slammed the door.

The next few minutes were filled with the emptying of Jay's stomach, alternating with Jay leaning against the toilet bowl and begging forgiveness from whatever muffin-based religion was out there.

A knock at the door, and suddenly Tim was there, pressing a gentle hand to Jay's back as he retched out the last of the bread product he had ingested. 

"Jesus… Are you okay?" he asked, and Jay looked up to him, drool spilling from his lower lip. And he knew, then, that Tim was perfect. The fluorescent light above the bathroom mirror shined on his hair, and his eyes were filled with a worry Jay would never be able to understand.

"I… I ate too fast," he mumbled, and Tim reached behind him. He flinched, covering his hair with his hands before Tim's hand came back with a piece of toilet paper.

"Here, hold still," he murmured, kneeling in front of him and cupping his cheek before wiping the spit from his mouth. He started mopping at the front of his shirt, too, and Jay flushed pink under green.

"I'm so sorry about this-" he started, Tim gently cutting him off with a finger to his lips. He threw the toilet paper away before looking Jay dead in the eye.

"What happened, Jay?" A simple question, but one he couldn't answer. Not truthfully, at least.

"I just ate too fast on the way here. Grab and go, you know?" He laughed, and it sounded pitiful, even to his own ears. "I was running and eating, not a great combo."

Tim looked at him, and they both knew it was a lie that sat heavy in front of them. But how would he tell him? 

'Hey, my roommate/keeper-person padlocked the fridge shut and I've been subsiding on table scraps, so I binged on some muffins an old lady gave me and I swear Alex isn't hurting me, except when I deserve it.'

Jay shook his head, and that's when Tim's eyes widened. "Jay, what happened to your neck?" he asked, fingers gently prodding at the blooming bruises that rested on his collarbone, and Jay cursed his low cut shirt. Of course, he had decided to wear it that day, so he was, in all essentiality, cursing himself.

"I, uh… ran into a doorknob?" he tried, and Tim looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "I-it's not what you think, I promise I'm not doing anything with anyone-"

Tim hugged him close, gentle hands coming up to caress his back. Jay nearly sobbed at the contact, settling for a hand pressing into Tim's chest and curling into the jacket he wore. The jacket…

"How long?" Tim asked hoarsely, and Jay was pulled from his thoughts. "How long has he been hurting you?" Jay pulled back, looking at him before shaking his head slowly.

"It's not Alex…" he said, and Tim looked so disappointed, he nearly broke down. "I- I just made some bad choices, I'll fix it-"

"You don't have to fix it," Tim replied, hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You don't deserve to be treated like that." And inside of Jay, something broke. Tears gathered in his eyes, streaming down his face as he started to sob.

"I- I'm sorry-" he coughed, Tim hugging him close again and cupping the back of his head to pull him closer. Tim's hand felt cold against his head, which felt… oddly nice. Like an ice pack for his headache, almost.

"It's okay," Tim soothed, tangling his fingers in his hair, and Jay swears he can feel a rush of adrenaline shoot through the pain. "It's okay, Jay…"

He calmed down a few minutes later, gently pulling away from Tim's arms and trying to stand. Tim helped him up, grabbing a Dixie cup and filling it with water to rinse his mouth out before guiding him into the living room.

Once Jay was sitting, Tim went to the kitchen. "I'm gonna make you some oatmeal, and you're staying here tonight," he said, pointing at Jay. He frowned. 

"I- I can't stay, Alex- he won't like it. He doesn't really like when I leave, but it'll be better if I get home before dark…" he replied, Tim frowning deeply at his words.

"I'm not sending you out to get beat up again. I've got locks on my doors, what can he do?" he said, and Jay cringes. Because there's a lot Alex can do, especially while he still has the cardboard box under his bed.

"I- I don't want you getting hurt because I didn't get home in time," he replied, Tim already getting out a packet of plain oatmeal and pouring water into a pot. "He's bad when he's angry, but I can calm him down-"

Tim shook his head, starting the stove to boil the water. "I'm not gonna let you go be Alex's punching bag. My house is open for you- I've got a futon and everything. It'll be like a sleepover."

Jay looked at his hands, bony and bitten at his knuckles. "...Okay. Just for one night, though, and I need to call him and let him know where I am. N-no address or nothing, of course."

Tim gestured at the phone hanging on the wall, nodding as Jay pushed himself off the soft couch and into the kitchen. Picking up the phone, he dialed Alex's number in and waited.

Alex picked up immediately, yelling, "Jay, do you have any idea how worried I've been?! You can't just-" Jay pulled the receiver from his ear, hand shaking slightly as Alex yelled on and on.

He pulled it back to his ear when the tirade softened, Alex asking, "...Where are you and when are you coming home." Jay shuffled his feet slightly and took in a breath before speaking.

"I… I'm at Tim's. I'm gonna be staying here, for the night." Jay closed his eyes, waiting for the screaming to start, but… all he's met with is the hang up tone.

Jay's eyes widened, pulling the phone from his ear and looking at it. "He hung up…" he whispered, Tim immediately walking over from the stove to take the phone and hang it on its hook.

"It's okay, Jay. You told him, so now he knows you're safe, right?" Tim soothed, Jay's mouth twisting into a teary frown. "Oh… C'mere…" He opened his arms to the man, and he accepted, hugging onto him like the world was ending and crying hard into his chest.

Tim held him that night, running his hands up and down his back and mumbling praise and soothing words into his ear. Jay sat there, clinging to his jacket and wiping at his eyes as he tried not to cry.


End file.
